


Beyond The Cheap Colored Lights

by BeautifulInsanity



Category: James Franco - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, RPF, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-04
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 16:01:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/178523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulInsanity/pseuds/BeautifulInsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things were pretty good.<br/>I had the BEST job ever. Going to new clubs every night and getting paid for it? Yeah, pretty sweet.<br/>I had the most beautiful house in the world, a Tuscan style mansion left to me by my late, great Aunt Steph. I spent all the money she left me decorating it perfectly. But the whole alone in the giant house thing wasn't my cup of tea.<br/>I'd be living in L.A. for one frightening, rough year. Finally, though, things were starting to go my way, and life was stable.<br/>And then my friend Diane asked me if she could use the pool for a James Franco photoshoot. Didn't seem like such a big deal at the time.<br/>Then I met the guy. He's world famous for not just his talent, but for the fact that he's endlessly fascinating and mysterious. Let's just say I didn't make the best first impression.<br/>Then I met his girlfriend. Katee was perfect, bubbley, and blond. But she'd been hiding something. Something that, when I discovered it, would bring back that one horrible incident from when I first arrived here. The one I never told anyone about.<br/>The one that made the empty rooms haunt me on my nights off work.<br/>Just when things were starting to go my way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond The Cheap Colored Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> This is my first story, so don't be expecting too much.  
> Thanks for taking the time to even read the summary. I know I'm not great at them, but I tried to make it enticing.  
> If you have any thoughts or critisisms, I fully welcome them. I can take it, I promise.  
> Comment if you hate it or like it or anything, all feedback is greatly appreciated.  
> Also if you wanna reccomend a fic for me to read, I totally welcome that to! Drop me a line!  
> Chapters will be posted as I finish them. So far the first one is finished. I hope you like it.  
> If anyone is getting impatient for a chapter, let me know and I'll try to get them done ASAP.  
> I'm one of those people who can't stand waiting for the next chapter, so I'll understand.  
> I hope you enjoy this! Let me know!  
> Thanks,  
> Mart.  
> Ps. I love visuals when I read, so check for examples of clothes and the house and stuff in the notes at the end of each chapter :)

I woke up to my phone vibrating. It was like fucking 7am, who the fuck would call at this time? I hated being up before the sun was past the center of the sky. I lazily grabbed my phone, knowing it was my mother. She didn't approve of my sleeping schedule.

 "Can I help you?" I spat bitchily into the phone.

"Yes, actually I think you can. Is this Sandra?" murmured a low male voice on the other end.

Oh, shit. Not Mom.

"Uh yes, I'm sorry" I stammered, "Who is this?"

"James. James Franco? Didn't Diane talk to you, tell you I might be calling?"

Poor guy sounded kinda confused.

He wasn't the only one. My half asleep brain tried desperately to figure it out...

Ah fuck. Diane. Her photo shoot was today! My friend Diane was acting as a stylist on her first shoot ever, a shoot starring James Franco. She'd suggested using my pool because it had fantastic light early in the morning (apparently... not like I'd ever been up to check it out). When her superiors had approved she'd asked if she could use the room off the patio as home base, for craft services and stuff for the shoot. Of course I'd say yes. Still doesn't explain why James Franco was calling me, though. I'd given Diane a key to the patio room, which was locked off from the rest of the house. She never warned me James Franco might call...

"Uhh... Maybe" I replied.

My phone beeped indicating a received a text message while on the call. I paused to check it. I had about 8 or 9 texts from Diane, the first one warning me that James might want to shower, and getting increasingly more Caps-locked until the last one "ARE YOU STILL FUCKING IN BED OH MY GOD HE'S CALLING YOU YOU LAZY FUCK GET UP!"

Whoops.

I put the phone back to my ear.

"Hello? Sandra? Hello?"

"Hi. Yup, sorry. You, uh, need a shower?" God, I must really sound like a treat...

"Yes, if that's alright." He paused, sounding apprehensive now "Can you come down and let me in?"

He probably thought I was some sort of psycho-bitch. And at 7am, I generally am. But this was _James Franco._ I tried to do some sort of damage control.

"Yeah, forsure! Just lemme get down there, I'll open 'er right up!" I chirped, a little too enthusiastically.

"Okay... thanks."

My attempt at damage control had apparently gone a little too far in the other direction. Damn my brain in the early morning.

"Be down in a minute" I said, and clicked off.

I jumped out of bed and ran to glance in the mirror. My wavy auburn hair was in full bed head mode. Oh well, that's in fashion on the runways right now, according to Diane. Or maybe she said it was so last season... Meanwhile, I was starting to get a mad head rush. I didn't have time to pause though. I ran my bathroom and swished some mouth wash into my mouth as I pulled an over sized sweater on over the underwear set I had apparently fallen asleep in. The I spit the mouth wash into the sink and made a mental note that this sweater would probably be more appropriate with tights. No time for that right now though. I raced out of my room, suddenly acutely aware that I was keeping James Franco waiting at my door.

The head rush still hadn't subsided, and I was starting to get tunnel vision as I raced down the stairs and towards the back, and the patio room door. I had hoped I would be able to make up for my first impression over the phone, but alas, it was not to be. I could see a man's shadow through the frosted glass of the door as a neared it, but the tunnel vision was closing in, even as I tried to take a deep breath. 

Unfortunately, being in this state does not adequately prepare you for a dripping wet Greek God waiting outside your door. The combination of his t-shirt clinging to his abs, his wet hair curling playfully and the picture perfect smirk that crinkled the outsides of his eyes was apparently too much for my 7am brain to handle.

I think I might have said "Woaah" as I keeled over.

I just saw his expression change from amusement to concern, before everything went black.

 

\-------------------------------------

Just incase you needed some help visualizing a wet James Franco... ;)

<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pS5ydig9Kso>


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